


Aziraphale's Christmas Present

by thewallflower07



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley tries to go shopping, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21933523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewallflower07/pseuds/thewallflower07
Summary: Crowley is invited to Aziraphale's Christmas Party for dinner. He knows that it is custom to buy a present for a host, but he cannot for the life of him find the perfect present for the Angel. Meanwhile, Aziraphale has an entirely different present in mind.Merry Christmas Eve!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Aziraphale's Christmas Present

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Christmas Present for my friend Clara (*waves*) and also my first fanfic for the Good Omens fandom. I hope everyone enjoys reading this one-shot, and do please leave a comment or kudos <3.

_Ideas for Aziraphale's Christmas Presents_  
  
_Warm Socks_  
  
_Egyptian Tea_  
  
_Crêpes with Chocolate_  
  
_Chocolate from Switzerland_  
  
_A first edition of The Importance of being Earnest_  
  
_A blue Christmas Jumper with a Snowman_  
  
_Hamilton Tickets (He would need a miracle for that)_  
  
_A dog_

* * *

  
  
Crowley runs through his mental list, trying desperately to find a fitting present for the Angel. It is the 25th of December, Christmas Day in the Year 2020, and he is on his way to their first shared Christmas party.  
The last years, Crowley had spent the majority of Christmas in his vacant hut in the Arctic, sitting on his veranda and scowling at the ice-cold wind.

  
This year though, Aziraphale had something entirely different for them in mind. The invitation from the blond Angel arrived the day after Halloween, Crowley’s favourite day of the year. He could walk through the street of London without his sunglasses and showing off his black face tattoos, and people would shout compliments to him. Not that Crowley wants appreciation, definitely not. Bloody humans.

  
Crowley shakes his head miserably to return to his initial point. The Christmas invitation, right. Aziraphale wanted him to visit his newly refurnished flat at the book store, for mulled wine, roasted duck, plum pudding, mashed potatoes, eggnog, ice cream with chocolate chips, fried chicken, brussel sprouts… The list continued for another page, and Crowley just skipped the part. There was going to be food, that is information enough.  
Crowley had called Aziraphale immediately after he received the Christmas Card, decorated with glitter and showing a picture of a hideously decorated Christmas Tree with a golden star on top.

  
“What the heaven are you planning to do?“ Crowley snarled into his phone, making his plants quiver with from the terror in his voice.

  
“I want us to celebrate Christmas together.“ Aziraphale answered, way too cheerily. Crowley could hear the sound of fluttering pages through the speaker. Aziraphale must have actually opened the bookstore for customers today.

  
“Why? We never do this.“

  
“This year, we will. We saved the earth from certain destruction, and we bought ourselves some time from our employers. Therefore, I want to celebrate Christmas especially grand this year.“

  
“What has that to do with me?“

  
“I would like us to…“ Aziraphale inexplicably started to stutter. “You know… celebrate Christmas, us! Be there at eight o’clock sharp and bring a bottle of white wine.“ With these parting words, he ended the call, and Crowley was left staring at the phone.

  
The days leading up to the grand event, Crowley has contemplated his list with present ideas time and time again, but it is useless. He has mastered the packed Harrods, the surprisingly charming Gay’s the Word Bookstore at Russel Square, the screaming children in the Disney Store at Oxford Street, the hell-ish place that is the M & M World at Leicester Square and so much more. It turned out to be surprisingly hard to find something for someone who, well, has already everything or can just wish for it.

  
Crowley has successfully soldiered through the celebrating crowd and has reached Aziraphale's bookstore. The store welcomes Crowley with a glaring CLOSED sign, but the Demon can spy the glowing fireplace through the window. He knocks on the door and waits.

  
“Coming!“ A voice exclaims, and the door is nearly thrown into Crowley’s face when Aziraphale opens it. The Angel beams at the Demon.

  
“How wonderful to see you, Crowley. The duck should be done any second.“

  
Crowley thrusts the ordered bottle of white wine into Aziraphales general direction and walks into the bookstore, discarding his long black coat along the way. The store is flooded with lights, a large decorated Christmas Tree looms in the corner and the table is already set with massive amounts of food.

  
“If only the others could see me now, celebrating the birth of our enemy.“ Crowley spits out without any venom. He actually takes some delight into knowing the other demons would be royally pissed.

  
“Forget about them.“ Aziraphale encourages and leads Crowley to his cushioned seat. The Demon slumps down and sniffs. The smell coming from the duck that Aziraphale is now proudly placing in the middle of the table is admittedly delicious.

  
“Shall we?“ The Angel says, and without any more preamble he cuts the duck open and serves the first piece to Crowley.

  
The Angel and the Demon amuse themselves with their shared food, complaints about the slippery Marylebone Road and the occasional banter over whatever their employers are doing at the moment. At one point, Aziraphale turns on his old gramophone and the flat is filled with the song “Oh Tannenbaum“ played by the Berliner Philharmonic.

As usual, Crowley is finished with his plate much earlier and is entirely able to focus on the Angel, who savours every bite. Crowley catches himself thinking how much he enjoys their shared dinners. Thanks to Adam and his friends, they will have a lot of these moments together while both their sides lick their wounds.

  
Aziraphale stops eating and puts his napkin down with a satisfied sigh.

  
“Congratulations to the Chief.“ Crowley says (he heard this expression somewhere) and Aziraphale blushes.

  
“Your white wine worked excellent with the duck, a wise choice.“ Aziraphael praises him, but Crowley waves the kind words away.

  
“Best I could do, considering I did not manage to find a nice present for you.“ He says and fiddles with his own napkin. Hopefully, Aziraphale will not be too disappointed.

  
Instead of disappointed, the Angel appears to be more confused.

  
“What present?“ Aziraphale asks, his brows furrowed.

  
“Your Christmas present, of course.“ Crowley answers, starting to be annoyed at the Angel’s slowness. Weeks of people trampling over London, throwing cash at each other, and Aziraphale is confused by the idea of presents?

  
“You already gave me the best present I could possibly imagine.“ Aziraphale says earnestly, and now it is Crowley’s turn to blink confused.

  
“ … What?“

  
“You. I invited you to spend the Christmas Day with me. A day that is commonly associated to be a time for meeting family, friends and other loved ones. You could have easily said no, but here you are.“

  
Well, if Crowley had known how easy this actually was he would not have driven through the whole of London thrice in search for a perfect dog and/or a first edition of The Importance of Being Earnest. Aziraphale kind words warmed him dearly.  
  


„That is very nice of you, Angel. How could I have said no? Although, I remember you telling me that I go to fast for you not that long ago.“ Crowley says.

„Maybe I finally learned how to catch up with you.“ Aziraphale whispers, and the two do not know where to look for a moment. They finally settle on the burning fireplace and listen to the last tone of „Schneeflöckchen Weißröckchen“.

“Right.“ Aziraphale claps his hands, and Crowley is ripped out of his day dream of him and the Angel trying out ice skating at the Rockefeller Center. Maybe something for tomorrow, surely together they could make the crowds be concerned with another activity for a few moments.

  
“Time for desert!“

  
Crowley puts his hands over his already full stomach and groans: “Are you trying to fatten me up?“

“Maybe.“ Aziraphale says and winks at him.

  
It was their best Christmas in over two-thousand years of existence.

  
And many more would follow.


End file.
